Good OldFashioned Lover Boys
by seren-canis
Summary: "He sees him everyday, like clockwork". Remus is an apprentice at a bookbinders and Sirius is a private-school boy who passes him everyday, until the day they actually talk. Remus/Sirius. Non-Magic AU.


He sees him everyday, like clockwork. Clock in, clock out, like the drumming of the frequent rain on the wide cobblestones, Remus sees the dark-haired boy.

Ever since Remus began his full time apprenticeship at Bastian Benedict Bookbinding & Prints, he sees the boy with black-metal hair and drawstring rucksack. Old Mr Benedict insists that Remus takes a break from the suffocating, synthetic fumes of the wooden printing press every morning, lunchtime and afternoon, and this is when Remus sees him.

Remus' mother had remarried. She had announced, with childish glee, how Clarke Crawford, a local merchant-cum-businessman who had had his eyes on her ever since Remus' father had died, had finally proposed, and they were relocating to Devon. Only unfortunately, it was a one bedroom cottage, but you wouldn't mind would you, Remus dear, because you have your little part-time job with lovely Mr Benedict, and you love the lake, and that nice Emily McGarvie always has her eye on you, and you wouldn't want to leave all that behind now, would you…

So now Remus is a fulltime employee of kind-eyed Mr Benedict, his hours filled with learning about _oversewing, signatures, _and _folio_ and the chemical sting of the printing press fumes filling his nose and head. When Remus escapes the small, crowded studio filled with toppling bottles of adhesives and loose sheets (_signatures)_ bound by string, he retreats to the cobblestone road the backdoor leads onto.

At first, Remus spent these breaks trying to memorise the difference between _recto_ and _verso_ leaves, desperately trying to learn faster and faster in order to pay back Mr Benedict for his kindness. That is, until the notices the boy.

On his morning breaks , which he spends leaning against the backdoor with a book perched in his hands, he sees him. In the mornings the boy's moon-white skin is fresh and clear, the morning air is cold and bites, and sometimes it rains. The dark-haired boy looks half asleep, a far-away look in his eyes that makes Remus think the boy still isn't sure if he's left his dream or not. The boy wears jet black leather school shoes, which the rain polishes to a gleam. In the mornings his white shirt is done all the way up, top-button tight, and his red tie sits snugly around his neck. But what is most striking to Remus is the boys blazer. The solid colour is free from any fades or crumples, freshly ironed and seemingly flawless, and a proud gold skims the hemline. Adorned on his breast is a crest, which Remus knows shows two greyhounds over a wreath and a tiny stitched sword. This boy, what ever his name is, goes to the all-boys private school, which is set up in the hill overlooking the town. Remus wonders why he walks this way everyday, through the small cobbled street, when he could surely get someone to drive him. And he hasn't always come this way. When Remus worked here part-time, he never saw the mysterious boy at all. But now, every morning, he sees the boy with the rain-cloud eyes and sleepy smile, his clothes immaculately arranged for the day, and Remus can't help but be pleased.

Best are the afternoons. In the afternoons the rain usually passes, and Remus slumps against the wall, gratefully breathing in the knife-sharp air to clear his swimming head. He never sees the boy at lunchtimes, Remus spends these by the reflecting lake eating his home-made sandwiches, and he suspects the boy spends them at his school, eating food that has taken its name from foreign lexis. But he sees him every afternoon, and this time the boy always looks different.

The boy is always sweaty and beaming. His carefully positioned tie is loose and low, and a button or two of his iron soft shirt are always undone. Only one button of his block-blue blazer is done up, and it is not uncommon for his sleeves to have a stain or two. He walks with his hands nonchalantly in his pockets, passing off a casual elegance that Remus never could, and that makes it difficult for Remus to look away.

Then, one afternoon, he smiles. The boy's smile is quietly amused, as if he has noticed Remus looking at him. The first time the boy smiles Remus feels flustered and shy, and immediately pretends to be engrossed by his book. When Remus looks up again the boy has already passed, and though Remus cant see his smile anymore the boys quizzical smile is imprinted in his mind throughout the day. It seems to float in his mind, a sweet imprint that seems to watermark the paper of the book he tries to read.

The second time the boy smiles, Remus doesn't get so flustered, but warm pink still spreads over his cheeks nevertheless.

The third time, it is Remus who accidentally smiles at him. He sees the boy coming up in the distance, the only source of light and warmth in what was otherwise a miserable day for Remus Lupin, and he can't help but smile. Remus looks down at the book in his hands and smiles into the inked words, then looks up, the smile still skimming across his face…and looks up straight into the boys face. Remus is startled to be looking straight into the boy's face, but relaxes when he sees he is grinning.

"Whatcha reading?" the boy asks. It is the first time Remus has heard his voice, and it is suitably smooth and expectantly elegant, although Remus is sure the boy's parents wouldn't approve of his use of ellipsis.

"I…It's just a book on bookbinding, you wouldn't be interested," Remus answers, nervousness making his speech unsure.

"Bookbinding? Sounds pretty interesting. That's what you do here, isn't it?" the boy looks genuinely interested and Remus notes that curiosity makes him look extremely adorable.

Remus nods and smiles shyly. "Uh-huh. I'm an apprentice here."

The boy grins. "Cool. I'm Sirius Black."

Sirius Black. Even the name oozes aristocracy, thinks Remus.

"Remus Lupin." They smile at each other.

"So, um," Remus says shyly, "you go to the Academy in the hills, right?

"That's right. Let me guess, the jacket gave it away?" Sirius says, indicating at his blazer with his arm. "Yeah, it's a little much," he laughs.

"Is that where you've come from now?" asks Remus.

"Oh no," Sirius laughs. "I was at a fencing class."

Remus raises his eyebrow curiously.

Sirius laughs more. "What? You don't believe me? You don't get this sweaty from piano lessons you know," he winks.

At that moment Remus' cell membranes seem to flutter, his veins shimmering with delight at the small gesture. He also tries desperately not to think of any jokes about Sirius' _sword._

"So," says Sirius, cutting off Remus' embarrassing day-dream digression, "the thing is…" He looks embarrassed now, as shy as Remus feels, and his sudden lack of assuredness only manages to make him look even cuter to Remus. "…we've been passing each other ever day for ages now, and I just wanted to say hi."

Remus smiles, "Well actually, you've been the one that's been passing me. I've just been standing here."

Sirius laughs, and it is brassy and happy and makes something in Remus' chest flutter, "I suppose you're right, Remus."

Remus grins. "I suppose I am, _Sirius_."

"So, anyway," Sirius coughs, "hi". He sighs, "I've been wanting to say that for a very long time."

"I've been wanting to say that to you too," says Remus.

"Really?"

"Uh-huh," Remus says, suddenly feeling more confident as Sirius seems less so.

Sirius looks relieved. "Oh good. Well, if…if you're not doing anything tomorrow lunch time, do you maybe want to get food somewhere? I know this nice park place , I'd understand if you don't want to, I- "

"I'd love to. And I know the perfect place," says Remus, thinking of his secluded, shimmering lake that was hidden in the park.

"Really?"

"Really," smiles Remus.

"Great!" exclaims Sirius, a great big smile on his face, which he quickly tries to control. "I mean you can, um, tell me all about bookbinding, then."

"Yeah," agrees Remus, "and you can tell me all about the academy and your um, _fencing_ lessons."

"Don't you mock me, Remus Lupin, or I might just not turn up!" Sirius laughs and they both know he is joking. He has been coming here every day, for weeks, like clockwork, after all.

"So I'll see you tomorrow?" says Remus.

"Yeah, tomorrow," says Sirius.

"And we'll actually talk this time," grins Remus.

"Yes, we will," grins Sirius.

"Goodbye, Sirius," Remus calls as Sirius shifts his backpack and walks away.

"See you, Remus," calls Sirius, turning around for a moment, and lets Remus see the smile that graces his face, the smile that was all for him.

END

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End file.
